Saturday, April 25, 2009

Ode to Stiffers

The rims on your Escalade cost more than my car, but you "can't afford to tip me since times are tight". I hope you learn what "times are tight" REALLY means.

It's the first of the month, and you are using your welfare money to buy 2 large pizzas, 40 hot wings, and 12 bleu cheese cups (true story). I hope you run out of bleu cheese and don't realize it and eat the hottest wing in the bunch, meanwhile you don't have a beverage, the refrigerator and freezer lock, and the water goes out, causing you to weather your burning tongue. You lose your voice for the next several months and are unable to ask for taxpayer handouts to support your frivolity.

Your parents sent you to the door to pay and you pocketed my tip. I hope the money falls out of your pocket in front of your parents and Daddy finds the biggest paddle and the firmest belt in the house, and unleashes a whipping that Chuck Norris would envy.

You gave me a religious tract and told me that it was way more valuable than earthly money and expected me to be grateful instead of being furious that we are part of the same religion. I hope you start some sort of selfish charity and everyone sees right through it when you ask for donations. Catching wind of your cheap habits that you justify with religion, I hope they send you nothing but pizza menus in the donation envelopes you provide.

You are greedy and live in a McMansion and decided to buy another Tahoe instead of giving me a few bucks. I hope you forget to open your garage while you are yapping on your BlackBerry and drive your Tahoe into your McMansion causing both of these symbols of wealth (and debt) to collapse. And I hope you were also being miserly when it came to auto and homeowners insurance, leaving you with nothing but a pile of bricks and an SUV that needs a nose job.

You look down on pizza drivers and decide they are beneath you. I hope you lose your job and fill out an application at my pizza shop so I can look down on you when I tell you that we are not hiring drivers at the moment, but please feel free to check in periodically in case something opens up.

You somehow determined that the delivery charge is a replacement for the tip to cover your cheapness. I hope your phone number and address find themselves on a "special list" of customers who now pay a $7 delivery charge.

1 comment:

Here's one to add (maybe not apply to you, but it's my own special hell):

You ordered online and noticed the tip field but decided to leave it blank anyway and did a little happy dance inside when you realized that you only have to sign the receipt and therefore can conveniently forget to tip me. I see you. I know you didn't forget. (For those of you who see that line and only put $1, I see you too. I know that right below that line is a tip calculator that shows you how much a 10, 15, and 20% tip is.)

During an eight hour shift, I ring 30 doorbells, spend 6.5 hours in my vehicle, wait for traffic lights to turn green, and have a lot of time to think. These thoughts are spewed out here in paragraph form.